Heart To Stone
by Carlow
Summary: The first step is admitting you have a problem...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Heart to Stone

Category: Romance, Angst

Rating: R

Characters: Carla/Peter

Summary: The first step is admitting that you have a problem…

"_You say my name like there could be an us."_

- Adele

"Si, how many times do I need to say it?" Peter scolded his son for the second time that morning. "Don't go playing football in the street, you could get hurt!"

"I'm sorry, dad." Simon Barlow apologized, staring up at his father in remorse. "I just wanted to practice for me game tomorrow night, and it's loads more fun playing in the street than on the sidewalk."

"I know, son." Peter sighed as he playfully ran his hand through the little boy's chestnut brown curls. "But you can't carry on doing whatever you please just because it's fun and exciting." He explained, a wistful smile spreading across his face. "Life just doesn't work that way."

Unfortunately.

"Alright," Simon agreed, picking up his football and holding it close to his chest. "It won't happen again."

Peter knew he was lying. He'd been a dad long enough to know that the more you told kids not to do something, the more they wanted to do it. But then again, he could say the same thing about himself.

When Leanne had told him to stay clear of Carla, it only made Peter want to be near her even more.

It was all too easy for him to blame it on the rape and overdose. He was concerned for his friend, and who wouldn't be given the circumstances? She'd just been through an incredibly traumatic experience, what kind of mate would he be if he didn't worry about her?

He'd never seen Carla so vulnerable before. The confident, unflappable demeanour she presented to the rest of the world was just an act. He knew that now, had known it for a long time if he was being completely honest with himself.

From the moment she'd walked into that AA meeting, pretending to be lost – a bond had been formed between them. A bond he tried vehemently to deny. To Leanne. To himself. Heck, even Carla had tried to deny it at first. Tried to push him away like she did with everyone else.

That was one character trait Peter recognized all too well.

He and Carla were more alike than either one of them was willing to admit. Correction – more than_ he_ was willing to admit. Carla had been sure of their connection for months now. He was the one in denial, according to her at least. She had confessed her love for him on more than one occasion and all he could do was continue to deny that the feeling was mutual.

Even now, Peter refused to admit that what he felt for the dark haired beauty was anything more than friendship. A deep, unconditional friendship unlike anything he had ever known. It still amazed him sometimes. That someone as competent and strong as Carla could find comfort in the arms of a pathetic smuck like him.

Peter could still feel the comfortable weight of her body against his chest as he held her close, gently stroking her hair in an attempt to fend off the demons Frank had caused…

"_I just want to sit here." _ Carla sighed, refusing his offer of food. She didn't want to eat. Not when Peter's arms were wrapped around her and he was running his fingers through her hair as she lay tucked protectively against the comforting warmth of his chest.

"_I'm gonna have to make a move soon I'm afraid." _Peter reminded her reluctantly, although leaving her side was the last thing he wanted to do.

"_Yeah, I know. Just five more minutes, eh?" _She whispered, and her simple request nearly broke his heart. At that moment, Peter wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life holding her in his arms…if only to make sure that no one would ever be able to hurt her again.

"_How 'bout we make it ten." _ He offered, his reluctance to let her go evident in the wistful tone of his voice.

Then Leanne had turned up and he remembered that he was a married man who couldn't spend the rest of his days comforting another woman.

Even if that woman meant more to him than life itself.

"Hello, earth to dad." Simon's voice brought him back to the present. "I'm gonna be late for school!"

"Right, then." Peter cleared his throat, hoping his head and heart would follow suit. "We'd better get a move on."

And with that, he resumed the role of dutiful father and husband. But in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn't be long before the urge to ring Carla became impossible to ignore.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone was staring at her. Not blatantly, of course. They were decent enough to wait till her back was turned. But Carla could feel their eyes on her everywhere she went.

That was nothing new, of course. She was used to the attention. Having all eyes land on her the minute she entered a room was something Carla used to pride herself on. She would never dream of leaving the flat without her hair and makeup looking impeccable - designer clothes and dangerously high heels adding to her look of polished perfection.

Carla was surprised they even recognized her now. The sweatpants she wore did nothing to show off her amazing figure, and she was practically swimming in the oversized blue hoodie.

Peter's hoodie.

He had left it at her flat ages ago, one night during one of their chats. She had meant to return it to him the next day, but never got round to it. She never got round to washing it either, the familiar scent of his aftershave and cologne still clung to the material. Carla found it comforting, almost as though he were there with her - helping her face the public scrutiny.

But a sweater was a poor substitute for the real thing.

"Mrs. Connor!" A familiar voice bellowed from across the street.

Apparently she wasn't so unrecognizable afterall.

Reluctantly, Carla looked down at the older woman and forced herself to smile.

"Ello, Sally."

"Sorry to botha ya," Webster grinned, her smile about as genuine as the knockoff Chanel bag slung over her shoulder. "But me and the girls were just wondering when you'll be back at the factory? Only, I think we can both agree that Julie isn't exactly manager material..."

"And who do you suggest I put in charge of things?" Carla snapped. She was not in the mood for this. "Certainly not you. You can't even manage your own gob!"

"Blimey! It was just question!" Sally shrieked indignantly.

"Well in future, keep it to yourself eh." Carla hissed as she stepped around the other woman dismissively and continued on down the street.

It was a bad idea leaving the flat. She wasn't ready to face everyone yet. Even though Peter had assured her that only he and Leanne knew about her suicide attempt, Carla couldn't help but feel paranoid. If anyone else found out, she'd be absolutely humiliated.

Perhaps there was a hole somewhere nearby that she could crawl into and never come out of.

"That looks familiar." Peter's voice interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up quickly, surprised to discover that she was stood outside the bookies. She must have looked a right state, standing there in the middle of the street staring at him in bewilderment.

Carla opened her mouth to speak, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what to say.

"Me sweater," Peter continued, motioning towards her outfit. "Thought I'd lost it."

"Sorry," Carla smiled, crossing her arms around her waist self-consciously. "Meant to give it back ages ago."

"Keep it," He insisted, giving her the once over as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Looks better on you, anyroad."

"Riiiiight," Carla laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm a regular supermodel, me."

"Only more gorgeous." Peter said honestly, and the tenderness in his eyes was almost enough to make Carla believe him.

She hated it when he looked at her that way. Hated the way it made her feel to have him look at her with eyes that said so much more than his lips ever would.

How can he look at me like that, then go home to _her_?

"So, what brings you to the bookies?" Peter asked, carefully changing the subject the way he always did whenever their conversations began to get too intimate. "You feeling lucky or summit?"

"Nah, just needed a bit of fresh air really." Carla explained. "Not quite sure how I wound up stood here."

"Well, I'm glad you did." Peter smiled at her warmly as he tossed the butt of his ciggy onto the cobbles. "Did you wanna come in for a bit?" He offered, opening the front door of the bookies invitingly. "I can put the kettle on, make us a brew."

"Sure, why not." Carla agreed, grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him. Ever since the attack, being with Peter was the only time she ever truly felt safe anymore. It was pathetic really, and Carla hated herself for allowing Frank to reduce her to this.

But she was confident that Peter wouldn't judge her, wouldn't mistake her fear for weakness.

He knew her too well for that.

"Great," Peter sighed, obviously pleased by her response to his invitation. "Leanne won't be back for a while yet..."

The mention of her former friend's name caused Carla to stop dead in her tracks. She had forgotten that Peter's companionship came with conditions. He would always be there for her, of course. Be a shoulder to cry on, her knight in shining armour.

So long as his wife wasn't around.

And that's really what it came down to. What it would _always _ come down to.

"Actually, I think I'll pass." Carla said as took a step back and began heading in the direction of The Rovers. "I'm in the mood for something a bit stronger than tea."

"Carla," Peter sighed and his voice had a pleading tone to it that nearly broke her heart. "I really wish you wouldn't."

"Yeah, well…" Carla blinked away her tears, a sad smile spreading across her lips as she distanced herself from him further. "We can't always get what we want, now can we?"

And with that, she turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

He could be a right idiot sometimes. And this was definitely one of those times.

Peter had been berating himself all day after his run in with Carla - replaying their conversation over and over again in his head. He shouldn't have brought up Leanne, shouldn't have made her feel as though their friendship was some sort of dirty little secret.

Truth be told, the only reason Peter even bothered to try and hide things from his wife was to protect Carla. He hated the way Leanne spoke to her, all the insults and accusations. It enraged Peter even more that he was unable to stick up for Carla without making Leanne even more suspicious than she already was.

And the more suspicious Leanne was, the more vicious she became.

Carla didn't need to deal with his jealous wife on top of everything else.

He wondered if she were still in _The Rovers_, looking for comfort in the bottom of a wine glass. Or had she gone home to her empty flat, a bottle of vodka hidden away in her designer handbag. And what if she'd stopped by the pharmacy on the way home? Refilled her prescription...

Logically, Peter knew he was being foolish. His stupid comment about Leanne hadn't upset Carla _that _much. In fact, she would probably have a right laugh if she knew he was sitting at home - worried that she was contemplating suicide over him!

He really was an idiot.

"Ello, love." Leanne's voice interrupted his thoughts as she came strolling into the flat, her arms loaded with bags from _Freshco's_.

"Hiya." Peter replied distractedly as he glanced down at his cell phone. He'd been debating on whether or not to ring Carla and apologize. Now that Leanne was home, he wouldn't be able to.

"Don't just stand there. Gimmie a hand, would ya?" Leanne said as she thrust the grocery bags at him. He took them into the kitchen without comment, his mind elsewhere.

A phone call was out of the question now, but he could always text her...

_Are you alright? _Peter typed out quickly and hit "send" before he could talk himself out of it. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and began putting the groceries away.

"You're awfully quiet this evening." Leanne commented, a look of suspicion on her face - as usual.

Peter was really beginning to hate that look.

He was about to tell her as much when he felt his pocket begin to vibrate. Turning his back to Leanne, he flipped open his phone and read the text.

_Just peachy, thanks. _Carla's sarcastic response made him smile.

_Liar. _He replied quickly, closing the phone as he pretended to focus on putting some tins in the cupboard.

"Are you ignoring me or summit?" Leanne asked, her patience with him was obviously beginning to wear thin.

If only Peter could muster up the effort to care.

"I've got a bit of a headache, that's all." He finally replied, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her.

"Why don't you go have a lie down then? I'll finish up here." Leanne offered as she moved to enter the kitchen.

"No, just leave it would ya? I'm fine." Peter said, brushing off her concern impatiently.

Why hadn't Carla replied to his last text?

"Blimey! I was only trying to help." Leanne chuffed.

"Yeah, well if I need your help I'll ask for it. Alright?"

"Go to hell, Peter!" Leanne spat out angrily as she grabbed her purse off the kitchen table and stormed out of the flat.

Peter knew he should go after her and apologize. But truth be told, he was more concerned about Carla at the moment. He hoped his last text hadn't upset her further.

_I'm sorry. _Peter typed, hoping he would get a response. His phone vibrated almost immediately and he couldn't help but smile.

_Me too. _Carla replied and he was beyond relieved to read those words.

_Still mates? _ He asked, needing to put his mind and heart at ease.

_Always. _Was her response, and something inside of him just clicked.

_I need to see you. _Peter replied as he slipped into his leather jacket and headed for the door.

_You know where I am. _Carla texted back, and that was all the invitation he needed.

Peter didn't know what he was going to say to her when he got there. All he knew for certain was that he couldn't stand to be away from her any longer.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: Thanks SO much for all the great reviews, everyone! I haven't written anything in ages, so I am a bit rusty. Hope you enjoy this latest chapter – even though it's a short one. Not sure if I want to continue on with this story or start a new one. Let me know what you think!

Peter was expecting her flat to reek of booze when he arrived, but it was the unexpected smell of paint fumes that greeted him instead.

When Carla had first opened the door, Peter couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked ridiculously adorable stood there, hair pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail. There was a smudge of purple paint on her left cheek and she wore a pair of tight black leggings with an oversized white t-shirt hanging loosely off one shoulder.

How did she manage to look both dangerous and vulnerable at the same time?

Eventually, Peter managed to tear his gaze away from her long enough to notice what was going on around him.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked, glancing around the room in utter disbelief. Carla's home always looked immaculately put together - like something out of a magazine. But in its current state, it appeared as though a bomb had hit. All of her furniture had been pushed to one side of the room, decretive pillows and designer lamps piled high atop her couch. There was an expensive looking duvet spread out across the floor - a makeshift paint tarp he assumed. And gone was the vibrant red and black wallpaper that used to adorn the walls - replaced by a fresh coat of mauve coloured paint.

"Redecorating," Carla explained with a shrug of her shoulders, a sad smile crossing her lips. "I needed a change. Too many bad memories in this flat."

That was an understatement.

"What brought on all this?" He questioned, watching as she climbed up onto a barstool and continued painting. "Last I heard, you were headed to _The Rovers_."

"I changed me mind," She admitted and Peter was beyond relieved to learn she hadn't been drinking. "We women tend to do that from time to time, ya know."

"Oh, do I ever." He chuckled, moving to stand beside Carla - ready to catch her if she fell. "Do you need a hand?"

"Is that why you came over here - to help me paint?" Carla asked, glancing down at him as she stretched out to reach the top part of the wall – nearly losing her balance in the process.

"Careful now." Peter warned, placing his hands on Carla's waist to keep her from falling. Her shirt had risen up a bit, which meant he was currently stood there with his hands on her bare skin.

She was so incredibly soft, Peter couldn't help himself – his willpower as nonexistent now as it was whenever he came tumbling off the proverbial wagon. But this was worse than the booze, more powerful than any addiction he'd ever dealt with in the past.

Carla Connor would be the death of him, but what a way to go.

"You're distracting me." She sighed, her voice an octave lower than normal – his touch was obviously having an effect on her.

"Now you know how I feel." Peter replied, his gaze fixated on her as he continued gently stroking her abdomen.

"What are you on about?" She asked, dropping her paint roller to the floor as she turned round to face him.

"You wanna talk about distraction," Peter said, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her down off the barstool. She was pressed up against him, so close he could feel her breath against his cheek. "I can't stop thinking about you," he confessed, rubbing his nose against her's – their lips nearly touching. "Can't stop meself from wondering what you're doing, how you're feeling…"

"I'm feeling like I should tell you to go home to your wife." Carla declared, but she didn't move away.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, lightly tracing circles on the small of her back with the pad of his thumb – smiling when he felt a shiver run down her spine.

"It doesn't matter what _I _want." She argued as she placed her hands against his chest. Peter wondered if she were going to push him away, or pull him closer?

"It matters to me," He whispered, his lips grazing her's as he spoke. "It's all the matters to me anymore."

"What about Leanne?" Carla asked tentatively, almost as though she were afraid of what he was going to say next. Peter decided to be completely honest with her, as well as himself.

"I don't want to hurt her," He admitted, guilt evident in the tone of his voice. "But I will if I keep up with this charade any longer."

"What are you saying, Peter?" Carla asked, needing him to spell it out for her.

"It's you," He said simply, reaching up to stroke her cheek as he gazed at her in adoration. "It's you I want to be with, Carla. Not Leanne."

"Are you sure?" She asked, still unwilling to let herself truly believe what he was saying. "Cuz if the two of you have had a row and this is just your way of getting back at her…"

"I would never use you like that and you know it." Peter hissed, dismissing her concerns. "If this was just about lust, I would've given in ages ago."

"Oh, really?" She grinned cheekily and he couldn't help but smile in return.

"In a bloody heartbeat." He answered truthfully. "But you mean so much more to me than that, Carla. And as badly as I want to ravage you right here and now, I would consider myself the luckiest bloke in the world if you'd just let me hold you tonight."

As much as they both wanted to finally give into temptation – Peter knew it was too soon. He didn't want to risk their first time together being ruined by memories of Frank and what that bastard had done to her. Peter was prepared to take things slow. As far as he was concerned, they had all the time in the world because he definitely didn't plan on going anywhere.

Without uttering another word, Carla took Peter by the hand and led him into her bedroom.


End file.
